Not til you’re 12, son…

You remember that part in “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” (the one with Gene Wilder)?  Where TeeVee Mike’s dad says, “Not til you’re 12, son”, in response to Mike’s question about getting a 12 gauge?   That’s why I title this like I did.

The new hens want to sleep on top of the shed.  The one that’s 12 feet in the air, and allows access to the neighbor’s yard, and our front yard, and offers absolutely no protection from raccoons or owls overnight.  They’d started sleeping up there while I was up in Oshkosh.  I noticed it the first night I was home, so the next day I took out all the intermediate flight surfaces that they could use to get up there.  I basically took out the dog pen and fence.

Next night I went out and, sure enough, they were up there again.  So I used a branch to get them down and put them in the proper chicken coop.

I’m just not ready for them to have that much freedom!!!  They have to sleep in their coop like all good hens should.  So now I put them to bed around an hour before sunset.  I have to click the sticks and herd them to the coop.

They don’t like it; but it’s best for them.

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